Morgan's Vacation: I found Emily
by charlotteprentiss
Summary: After a trip to the French capital, Derek Morgan finds a bit more than a face in one of his photographs.
1. Welcome Back

Garcia sat in her kingdom; surrounded by cables, screens, and technical gadgets which no one really knew how to work. It was early, seven o'clock and she was waiting for her price charming. As she printed out records of a questionable club worker, she heard him coming. He appeared.

"Morning baby doll" he said with a wide grin on in his face.

"Morning, Derek…" cheekily she said back. He lingered in the doorway longer than usual and he had the twinkle in his eye which stated 'I need something'. "You've been standing in my electric chapel for a while now… anything I can do for you?" He whipped out a small memory card from his back pocket and presented it before her.

"Can you put the photos on my laptop, maybe have them as a screen saver?" he grinned again before producing his laptop from a stringy rucksack.

"Give me five" She took them and got straight to work.

"Thanks sweet cheeks" Derek Morgan had been vacationing alone in the romantic city of Paris. Initially, he was going to go to the wedding of an old college friend but when the soon-to-be mother in law broke her leg and the wedding was postponed, he was left with a non- refundable flight to the city of love. Alone, he decided to embrace the opportunity to see the sights of Paris. Being a profiler, he got to travel a lot; but the dingy back alleys and the dark boardrooms couldn't compare with the patisseries and historical sites which the French capital had to offer.

"You're late" Hotch said as Morgan approached his desk.

"I was with Garcia, getting information on Eric Johnson, the bartender from The Manhattan." Partially the truth; he had been with Garcia however they had found everything they needed last night. Hotch knew this but decided to let it go; he felt like had already been too harsh on Morgan, everyone is allowed to be late, once.

He had barely been sat down a minute when Garcia presented the laptop back to him. "What have I told you about setting the time and date on your camera?" she said half joking, half serious. He looked puzzled and took a moment to sip from the dodgy coffee he had bought from a vendor on his way to the office.

"Baby doll; you did it for me, remember, about six months ago" he looked at her like she was crazy as he opened up his laptop and tried to locate the photographs. Garcia was insulted, no one ever disputed her technical handiwork.

"Oh Derek Morgan…." She said peacefully "There are pictures of Emily Prentiss within that junk you'd like to call photography, all dated July 2011…"she left a pause before looking over to the wall of fallen agents. "Let me show you." Flicking through file after file she eventually reached a folder that was appropriately named 'My Crap Photos'. "Look!" she pointed. "Emily Prentiss is in the background of that photo."

"That's not possible." He explained. "All these photos were taken while I was on vacation. It's just somebody who looks like her from the side or something… Plus, Emily, in Paris? C'mon I think we know that's not going to happen- she said she hated that place as a kid and" he emphasised, "we buried her four months ago." Morgan look disgusted at the suggestion. Following the loss of agent Prentiss he had took the news pretty bad. He was reluctant to talk and blamed himself for what happened to her; constantly thinking 'what if'. The idea that possibly Prentiss was living the 'good life' in Paris was something he wasn't going to begin to comprehend. He had been through the five stages of grief and denial was one that hit hardest.

Nothing was said between the pair. Garcia had touched a raw nerve and despite longing to talk to somebody about Prentiss, she reluctantly decided that Derek wasn't the one to talk to. 'It was probably somebody who looked like her' she repeated to herself in her mind. Prentiss couldn't be alive and she knew that.

Once Garcia had trotted off back to her desk Morgan inspected the picture once more. It was dark and in an attempt to capture the triumphant Eiffel Tower, Derek had taken a rather inartistic photograph of people's faces; he hadn't focused the shot. The woman, who Penelope believed, wanted to believe, was Emily Prentiss stood in the corner of the photo. Dressed in a pink blouse and a cream parka coat drooped over one arm, she was staring right into the camera. Derek shook his head. As he remembered the night, he remembered the smell. Not of the dirty river which ran besides him but of something familiar, which he struggled to identify. Initially thinking about it, he assumed it was the same perfume his mother wore. But upon the sight of Prentiss's doppelganger, he realised it was the same perfume she wore to the office every day.

He turned away and walked over to the pile of files Hotch had left for him. He flicked through rigorously, finding the one which would be hardest to complete; he needed anything to get his mind off Prentiss. The longer he stood at the files, the more time he had away from the face that tormented his mind.

He turned and braced himself. Spencer Reid stood at his desk awaiting his return.

"You shouldn't do this to yourself" he stated as Derek came over. "Statistics show that if…"

"I'll stop you there kid" Derek said quickly. He wasn't in the mood for one of Reid's theories or facts. "What are you on about?" Reid turned and pointed.

"Emily…" he said as he stared at the face which screamed sadness. "You shouldn't keep reminding yourself of what could have happened. We miss her. Don't torture yourself." Reid spoke with an angry tone. Even though he had progressed to the stage of acceptance, he often found himself angry over her death and occasionally questioned why he was still with the BAU and whether it was all worth it.

"Kid" Derek repeated. "That isn't Emily Prentiss."

"Sure it is" he replied as he pulled his glasses down and retrieved a pen from his pocket. He sat and took control of the laptop, zooming in on the face. He pointed. "Here".

"What am I looking at?" Derek asked as he stared blankly at the screen, waiting for the moment to be over.

"October 20th 2008. We were assigned to a triple murder case in Longview, Texas." Derek stared blankly for he had been to too many murder cases to recall them by date and location. "Prentiss" Spencer recalled. "There was a struggle in the first victim's house with the un-sub. She was pushed down the stairs and cut her face on broken glass which lay at the bottom." He clicked his pen and zoomed further. He lightly grazed the screen with his pen and identified a scar on the woman's chin. "The marvels of a good camera."

He stood up and walked over to his own desk in the corner of the room. "Also, I'd ask Garcia to sort the date on the photos. It's rather annoying."

Derek sat back down and exited the screen which displayed 'Prentiss's' face. He held his head in his hands and sighed. He didn't know what to think. Every possible conclusion lead him to a direct path back into the five stages of grief. She was still alive: denial of what he believed to be the truth. Why didn't he notice at the time? She was staring right at him: anger. Maybe, if he could go back again, would he recognise her? Bargaining.

Rossi approached. Leaning back into his chair and taking a deep breath, Derek composed himself and turned. He held out a few sheets of paper. "They dropped out of your file" he said, turning his head to the screen which no longer displayed a photograph. "That would have been a nice photo" he said calmly… "If only she had been smiling. She looked so sad. You shouldn't remember her like that". He too began to walk back to his desk.

"Rossi!" Morgan shouted just as he went to sit down. Both men stood silently as Derek retrieved the photo and once again displayed it on his screen. Reid returned, shortly followed by Garcia who placed more papers onto Morgan's neatly presented desk. "Do you honestly think it's her?" he asked sternly. He tried to remain calm but the idea that he had been lied to and deceived made him angry to his core. Spencer began to speak up, but after struggling to find words he resorted to the quiet school boy what he once was. Garcia too remained wordless. Rossi who seemed always to know what to say murmured.

"It looks like her. I thought it was her." David eventually said.

"Reid, show them what you showed me." Morgan said, pushing the laptop over to him. Within seconds he was presenting the scar that she had received as a result of the job she once filled. Garcia breathed sharply as she wiped away a tear rolling down her cheek.

"It's her" she said, her voice shaking.

Aaron Hotchner appeared behind them, elevated on the walkway which runs around the office. He saw what they were looking at and cautiously walked over. Garcia scurried off back to her office where she could hide and wipe her eyes.

"What's upset Penelope?" The men turned. Their faces were a mixture of disbelief and anger. They didn't know what to think. Aaron once again looked at the screen. This time the date was visible. "If you cannot tell me, I ask that you get her to tell me when she feels ready." He walked off. He knew. They knew she was alive; at least, they had suspicious. He walked to his office, shut the door and reached over to the phone. He sat staring at it and then dialled.

"Hello? Emily? It's Hotch. They know."


	2. They?

Aaron Hotchner paced around his office. Two days had passed since Morgan's vacation photos had caused a stir in the BAU offices. Nothing had been said to Hotch, not even an attempt to explain Garcia's moment of crying but he knew something was being said between the profilers. If he didn't act soon they could unravel the lies and months of secrecy which Emily Prentiss hid behind. She was returning soon but this wasn't the way it was supposed to happen.

The team had been working individually after a rocky kidnapping case left them with piles of paperwork to sift through and there was no reason for them to be huddling around one desk.

Out of the blue, Morgan appeared in Hotchner's office and closed the door behind him. "Hotch, we need to talk." Aaron pushed the chair in front of his desk with his foot and gestured for him to sit down but he remained poised, holding onto the file cabinet.

"I know you want to think it is Emily. I heard what you were saying." Hotch said comfortingly, wondering whether his charade had fooled the profiler. Both remained silent in the tension filling room.

"Don't mess with me Hotch" he said, moving forward and gripping onto the back of the chair which moments earlier had been offered to him. He walked in with the mind-set that it was Emily and he wasn't going to leave without an explanation.

Derek looked angry and didn't stop staring. Hotch looked down. He wasn't one to be intimidated by a co-worker, but this had gone on too long, 4 months, two weeks and three days too long. He didn't want to fight back any longer, the team needed to know the truth. Whether they liked it or not.

"It was never meant to end this way" he said finally, looking up and walking past him to the office door. He opened it and held his arm out and motioned for him to leave. Morgan remained still before grunting and walking out. Aaron Hotchner followed. The team gazed as the two men walked around the walkway to the meeting room which stood adjacent.

They walked in and Hotch hooked up Morgan's laptop to the projector. Emily Prentiss's face was on display. Morgan took a seat. His cocky attitude was radiating from his pose: slumped back with his arms behind his head. Hotch walked out for a brief moment. Leaving him alone in the dark room, he shot up in his chair. Within seconds the other profilers were walking in and Derek retained his pose. They looked at him and he smiled.

Aaron followed suit and shut the door behind him. As he stood in front of the team he couldn't believe he was doing this alone. Jennifer Jareau, former BAU media liaison, and soon to be once more was supposed to be here with him; explaining the events following the cold night in March which ended with the team in a hospital waiting room. He didn't understand how he had found himself in the position: Emily wouldn't intentionally make people aware of her unless she was in danger, but that didn't make sense. She had 24 hour security from Interpol and the FBI, as well as several former agents working the Doyle case alongside her. He convinced himself in was accidental and braced himself for the onslaught from the people who sat before him.

"Ian Doyle is dead" He said defiantly. Morgan moved and leaned over the table, hands gripped. "Interpol had agents follow him to France where in a covert operation, he was assassinated." It wasn't a word he liked to say often but 'assassinated' gave him a renewed confidence.

The team, minus Derek who remained hands gripped over the table, all displayed the same reaction. They smiled but it still didn't bring back their Emily who they had buried 4 months previously.

"Emily Prentiss was assigned to the case. Her history with Doyle meant they had the advantage of knowing where he felt safe and secure, she has been helping the team in France." He didn't know what to say and struggled to get the few words out.

"I knew it." Derek said angrily, bashing his hands of the table and storming out of the room. The remaining profilers sat still and dropped their heads. Two days ago, they were commentating on how somebody looked like Emily, now they were being told the painstaking truth which had been kept from them. It was too much to handle, even for the most experienced FBI agent. Derek sat down at his desk and retrieved a photograph of the team from a Christmas meal. He put it pride of place in the centre of his desk and vanished to the in-house gym in which he spent many hours after busy days at Quantico.

Hotch offered the remained of the week off but all declined as they walked out the room. It had barely taken five minutes, and no one wanted to hear anything more. They were happy, Emily Prentiss was alive. But there was so much more to be explained and he couldn't do it alone.

His phone rang. "Hello? How did this happen?" there was silence and his voice was concerned. The profilers watched as he slowly made his way to his office. "I want you back on Monday, 7. First thing". He closed the door and observed the team from his desk. He had expected a reaction from all of them individually but this was nothing like he had expected. There were no tears, surprisingly from Garcia. And Reid and Rossi had remained surprisingly quiet despite their initially thoughts. It seemed too good to be true and yet a nightmare at the same time.

Derek reappeared less that 20 minutes after leaving and Hotch shot out of his office and grabbed his coat and briefcase.

"They will return on Monday" he said as the elevator doors opened and he stepped in.

The team looked at each other. "They?"


	3. Restored

Emily Prentiss stood before the mirror in the hall of her apartment. She inspected her abdomen from every angle, bending back and forth, changing position, waiting for the scars that Ian Doyle had branded her with to disappear. Today was her first day back at the BAU, her stay in Paris cut abruptly short after a celebratory night out with the agents she had been working with resulted in her being caught on camera. She pulled her shirt on and headed out the door, it was still dark outside but she had nothing to fear.

As she pulled up at Quantico she recognised the two cars parked nearest the doors. She stepped out and slowly walked over to the main entrance and swiped her access card that allowed her entry. It had been almost five months since she had last stepped through the doors and it was good to be back. As she waited for the lift to reach the sixth floor she thought about how the team was going to react to her return. She had missed them greatly but she didn't know if their anger would compromise their former relationships.

"Don't I get a hello?" She joked as she entered the offices. Hotch turned around and she leaped onto him. He had never been a fan of breaking strict business relations but he figured a hug wouldn't damage his pristine reputation; after all, there was only Emily around. "God, how I've missed this place!" she said, still in his grip.

He let go. "We've missed you here too" He walked over to take her photo down from the wall of fallen agents but somebody had already done it. "Nothing much has been said." He spoke again. "It's just a pity you had to come back like this. We had prepared and we were ready to brief the team any day." She sighed.

"Where is she?" Emily said.

"She'll be here later." Hotch reassured her.

"I'm so nervous. I feel sick. I feel like the past three and a half years were nothing. I'm a stranger to them now." He put his hand on her shoulder for comfort.

"They talked about you all the time. They want you back more than anything, they won't let their anger at me step in the way." He disappeared back into his office.

She wasn't convinced. She looked around the offices but no one was around. Over the past four months she spent many nights anticipating her return and today was the day; no turning back.

Hotch looked down from his office where the team were gathering. Only Rossi was missing. Reid and Morgan stood either side of Garcia looking onto the entrance. Morgan's hand gripped Garcia's. Rossi pulled onto the car park, shot out of the car and patted Spencer and Derek on their shoulders. They began to walk in.

"They're coming" Hotchner shouted to Emily. She walked over to the elevator and stood before it.

As the team one by one filled the box elevator, they mumbled between each other.

"So, who is 'they''?" said Spencer Reid intriguingly. It had been in his mind all weekend but still, the boy genius couldn't come up with a solution to who Hotch could possibly have been talking about.

"Prentiss." Derek replied.

"Strauss." Garcia suggested, not wanting to bring her hopes up too much.

"JJ." Rossi spoke confidentially.

…Two, three, four… The floors passed and excitement radiated from the metal capsule.

The doors opened.

They saw Emily Prentiss and remained motionless until the ring of the elevator projected them forward onto her. She was buried in a cloud of bodies and tears.

"I'm proud of you, and every day I am proud of you Emily." Morgan struggled to get out, tears rolling down his face. Derek couldn't hide his feeling and he didn't care who saw. Hotch watched from his office.

Slowly they let go, body by body revealing her. "I've missed you so much". Every sound was muffled by tears. "I am so sorry." She grabbed onto Morgan for support. "I'll never leave you again." She tried to reassure the team.

Penelope held onto David and Spencer. She gripped tightly, every second waiting for the dream to be ripped away from her. Prentiss walked over and hugged each one individually, no one wanted to let go.

The team spent three hours fussing over Emily. Hotch occasionally passed by but he didn't want to hinder her return. Each one, Derek, Spencer, David and Penelope got individual time with her which was personally recommended by both heads of Interpol and the FBI who were aware of the situation.

It was lunch and Emily disappeared into Hotch's office. The profilers and Garcia went to grab lunch, almost too happy to eat. Aaron and Emily waited.

"I was wondering when I'd be seeing you again!" JJ appeared and ran over as best she could to Emily and hugged her. They swayed; neither one wanted to let go. "I'm so glad you're ok… I worried about you so much" she said, briefly looking over to Hotch who was standing awkwardly in the corner. "Hotch!" she went to hug him to but settled for a formal handshake.

"Two for the price of one" Hotch joked. He rarely joked but today was a special day; the team was finally restored to how it was supposed to be.

JJ left, followed by Prentiss whose nerves had vanished. They sat at Prentiss's desk which stood centre of the room. Emily leant down into her bag and produced a small album. "I missed your birthday…" JJ hugged her and opened it. She gazed and smiled at each photograph bringing back memories. They sat in silence, flicking page after page. Suddenly the rabble returned.

"Who's that blonde?" Penelope asked, pointing over to Prentiss and JJ.

"Probably Seaver… She left a lot of her stuff." Morgan spoke nonchalontly.

JJ turned and yet again the profilers were rendered motionless.

They hurried over once they were sure it was her. "It's good to be back" she said, embraced in a huddle.

Aaron joined them who had been watching the day's events unfold from the privacy of his office.

"Guys, I'd like to welcome JJ and Prentiss back to the team. I think I speak for all of us when I say we've missed them deeply and we're glad they have found their way home…"


End file.
